Good Harbor

“I sometimes think one of the reasons Pat was attracted to religious life was the closeness we saw among the Sisters who taught us. The Sisters of St. Joseph were such good women — none of that smacked-knuckles business — very kind to us and generous with one another.” Kathleen paused. “I haven’t thought of them in such a long time.”

Joyce watched the sunlight shift in Kathleen’s white hair, making her eyes seem much bluer. Suddenly they were brimming. “Kathleen?”

“I’m okay. I just miss her. My sister.”

“Of course. But you can talk to me, you know. About anything.”

“Yes.” Kathleen put her hand on Joyce’s shoulder for a moment. “I know that.” Waves splashed in the deep grotto beneath them and sent up the smell of cool brine. Kathleen got to her feet. “Are you ready to explore?”

“Lead on.”

They made their way across a fairly level plain of rock, clambering around granite boulders strewn by ancient ice. It didn’t take long for Kathleen to find the pond, which turned out to be a brackish puddle surrounded by scrubby weeds. Tiny wasps buzzed across its glazed surface.

“Sorry,” Kathleen said, wrinkling her nose. “I guess what I really remember is how much Hal and Jack loved finding it.”

Joyce crouched down. “I can see why. It’s crawling with life, heated by the sun and nourished by bird shit.”

Kathleen laughed.

“Boy, are you a cheap date. All it takes is a single four-letter word, and you’re on the floor.”

“You’re a bad influence. I’m swearing a blue streak these days. Well, for me it’s a blue streak. Buddy gets a kick out of it, actually.”

“Oh, great. So now I’m known in the Levine house as the woman who corrupted Kathleen.”

“Buddy calls you Dr. Joyce.”

“Ha.”

“Well, Doctor, I think we’d better be going.”

“Okay, but, Kathleen, I need to pee.”

“Well, go ahead.”

Joyce hesitated.

“I’ll join you.” In one fluid motion, Kathleen crouched and pulled her pants and underwear around her knees.

“Wow. For such a ladylike lady, you’re very good at that.”

“Thank you,” Kathleen said with mock dignity. Joyce laughed and managed a reasonably good imitation.

“Didn’t you have peeing contests as a kid?” Kathleen asked, watching as it ran down the rocks, drying without a trace. “Patty and I did it in the backyard, summers. My grandmother caught us once. Chased us around the house with a hairbrush, but we were too fast for her.”

“I don’t think I ever had a peeing contest in my whole life. This is like a milestone!”

“Mazel tov,” said Kathleen, starting to laugh. “Today you are a woman.”

That set Joyce off, and soon they were on their sides, gasping for breath, hiccuping laughter.

“Oh, oh, oh,” said Joyce, pulling her pants up. “It’s not even all that funny. Can you imagine what we look like?”

“I’m afraid so.” Kathleen wiped her eyes and stood. “I think we’ll go back around the other side. It might be a little faster.”

She headed down a cascade of rocks that seemed more and more menacing to Joyce as they descended. Kathleen pointed out good footholds and hummed under her breath; Joyce tried to manage her rising panic. I will not wimp out, she thought. Shit, I can’t wimp out. What would Kathleen do? Carry me?

They were on the sand within fifteen minutes and walked back to shore in water lapping at their ankles. Kathleen took Joyce’s hand and raised it like a prizefighter’s. “Now you can tell the world you conquered Salt Island.”